


Lost and Forgotten

by appending_fic



Series: The Age of Mysteries (Ciphers) [6]
Category: Gravity Falls, Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Feelings, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Stealing Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:04:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stricken by the news that he's alone in the universe, Aster is lost - unable to drag himself out of his depression and isolation. Sophie going missing, however, is enough to drag him out of the Warren and after her. But how can someone so lost find someone who's been stolen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bill Cipher stretched his arcane muscles; it was always nice getting out of the mindscape, where only his mental powers worked. It would be much better if he could incarnate himself in the material world, but he was working on that.

And speaking of his plots…

“Hey, Sprout.” A creaking and shuffling, as of paper, filled the space around him. “How you doing?”

“Still...alive. No thanks to...you.”

“That sounds suspiciously ungrateful for someone who owes their entire existence to my largesse. I gave you all _sorts_ of cool powers - including some awesome ones I probably forgot to mention. Point one - someone clearly tried really hard to kill you, and you’re still alive! I usually count that as a...well, not a win. But definitely not a total loss. Point two - you’re still a soul-eating monstrosity, which is _definitely_ a plus! And point three - I’m willing to help you out again. Step one-”

Bill snapped his fingers, and a battered, hooded lantern flew into his hands from the darkness around him.

"See? Still in once piece. And _that_ you owe to that other little trinket I made for you. But step two is getting some souls to get this bad baby going again. Luckily, I’ve got a few suckers who owe me blank checks, but only if you’re willing to take a little advice about your first target.”

“I’m...listening.”


	2. Chapter 2

The Warren was a mess. It had often been a little untidy, especially during the last Easter rush, but it was, Aster had to admit, a mess. It was hard to keep up with the housekeeping in the best of times, and now…

He’d given up cooking; the odd vegetable kept his energy up, and anything more seemed like too much effort. He didn’t think he had any more clean dishes, anyway. He didn’t think he’d run laundry in...well, a while.

The only thing he was still doing properly was keeping up with the date. Each morning, he drew an ‘x’ on his calendar, to make absolutely sure he didn’t miss Easter. He was due to start working again soon, and even the prospect of his work didn’t excite him the way it normally did. Maybe if he had company-

Aster decided to check on the googies; it was marginally better than sitting in his kitchen staring at nothing. It was odd, he thought. A part of him was certain he hadn’t been watering them as often as he should, and yet they were thriving. It was something he probably should look into...someday.

Aster found himself sitting among the plants, and the day’s light waning. He wondered where the time had gone.

It set a twinge of worry in his soul. With all the work necessary to prepare for Easter, if he couldn’t even keep track of time…

But he didn’t even begin to know how to fix it, and there was no one who’d be willing to pitch in.

Not after he and Jack had stopped talking. It was painful how easy it was to end a friendship. Just time and silence, and the bonds dissolved as if they’d never been.

But it hadn’t been easy, Aster corrected. Jack had insisted on returning again and again, relentlessly trying to engage him, as if there was any hope of Jack filling the hole in Aster’s heart. He was certain it was for the best that Jack had given up, but it hurt - a little cut compared to the deeper wounds still plaguing Aster, but painful nonetheless.

Aster’s thoughts were interrupted by a flicker of awareness and a breath of cold air - signs that a visitor, a particular visitor, was in his home.

Bare feet touched lightly on the grass near Aster, and then approached with balanced, measured steps. There was a time Jack would have tried to sneak up on him.

“Bunny? Are you alright?”

“No worries. What’re you here for?”

Jack sighed before dropping down to crouch at the level of Aster’s eyes. Jack’s face looked worn, with lines under his eyes, more than his usual pallor, and a thinness Aster wasn’t used to. It was ridiculous that Jack should feel stressed enough to cause that.

“Jamie got ahold of me. He’s frantic. Sophie’s gone missing.”

His duty was the one part of Aster that didn’t feel like it was withering and dying, and yet it still took a moment for the words to spur Aster to action.

“Missing?” He scrambled to his feet, reaching out for the bandolier he hadn’t worn in...weeks. “Where? How?”

“If you’re willing to let me drag you to Burgess, we can figure it out.” Jack sounded stiff, formal.

“Yeah, sure, just give me a minute-”

Aster let Jack carry him along with the wind, heart twisted up in worry for Sophie, one of the few ankle-biters who’d learned to look at him and see Aster first, rather than the Easter Bunny.

The Bennett house was surrounded by police, which posed no problem to Jack and Aster. They found Jamie in his room, glaring at his computer screen. His eyes were red, and he wiped at his face with irregular intervals.

When he heard the window open, he turned to Jack and Aster, and the fearful anger melted, replaced by something like relief.

“Jack! Bunny!” He lunged at the two of them; Aster flinched, but Jack caught the boy and let Jamie hold onto him, breath rattling unsteadily. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“‘Course we’re here. But what happened?”

Jamie pulled away from Jack, shrugging. “She got out of the house sometime last night, and we’ve checked pretty much everywhere in town, and in the woods.”

“With my help,” Jack added.

“Yeah. So now...we’re pretty sure she’s gone, and…”

“And I could’ve helped right when she vanished. Why didn’t you call?”

“We’ve been searching nonstop for...twelve hours, Bunny. We called you when we were pretty sure we weren’t going to find her. When we thought maybe you can.”

“Fossick for her? That’s sort of a Mickey Mouse way of doing things.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve tried everything else, so…”

“...Fine. I’ll need to hop outside, and you two, keep your distance.”

Aster retreated back out the window and padded about a hundred yards away from the house, where he took a careful seat on the ground. It’d been a half truth that fossicking wasn’t the most reliable method of finding someone. It was a tricky sort of thing, hard to do when Aster was anxious. The fact that Sophie meant something to him would normally make it easier.

But at the same time, Aster was finding it harder to reach his center, which made it infinitely more difficult.

He wasn’t certain how long he sat, trying to reach out through the earth to find some hint of where Sophie Bennett had walked. It took much too long, he knew, and when he found her, it was a vague sense, like looking at her through frosted glass. Aster couldn’t tell if he could feel her fear, or if his own was echoing back at him. He could sense trees, but something else, too. Something angry...and hungry.

Aster came back to himself with a gasp. When he looked around, he saw Jack crouched a few feet away, watching him warily. Nearby, several police officers were gathered in a tight circle, talking.

“You okay?”

“She’s apples,” Aster grumbled.

“You find Sophie?”

“No. Yes. She’s...alive, but she’s somewhere strange. Dreamlike. I don’t think we can find her without more to go on.”

“Yeah, and Jamie’s not much help.”

“He feels guilty,” Aster muttered. “Should’ve been looking out for her.”

Jack gave Aster a weak smile. “Well, that’s Jamie for you.”

“No,” Aster said. “He feels _guilty_.” He swiveled his ears toward the cops, catching the phrase, ‘can’t get an ID from this’, and grabbed Jack to point him at the police officers. “They’ve got something important over there. _Get it_.”

“You could say please.” Jack, though, hopped in the air, gesturing with his staff so as to send a gust of wind blowing through the knot of police officers. Several pages went flying; Aster saw a flash of brown and yellow on one, and so chased that one down to get a good look once it landed.

It was a drawing, of about the quality a four-year-old was capable. But the details captured in the drawing were subtle and terrifying. At first glance, it was some sort of deer or elk with a human body. But the body seemed to be made of screaming faces, and the hands spindly like branches. Its eyes were like lamps, circles of light set within the dark form.

A hand reached down and pulled the paper away before Aster was forced to look at it a moment longer. It wouldn’t matter if he did or not; the image was etched into Aster’s memory, and he wasn’t likely to forget it.

“Mother said the kid usually drew rabbits. Loves the Easter Bunny. What changed the subject matter?” Aster stepped closer to the policewoman examining the artwork, glad he didn’t need to worry about stealth.

“That’s a question for the psychologist to answer,” one of her colleagues responded. “But it’s usually trauma, emotional upheaval, shit like that. I’d blame it on the divorce, if it wasn’t old news for her. We could check with the brother again, see if she’d mentioned any problems with her friends.”

Aster’s stomach twisted painfully and he stepped away quickly. When he reached Jack, he grabbed the winter spirit by the hood of his sweatshirt and tugged him along toward Jamie’s house.

“Jamie knows something he’s not saying,” Aster said, crouching to leap to the second-story window. Jack yelped at the momentary flight, scrambling after Aster after he deposited Jack on the floor.

Jamie was face-down on his desk, slamming his hand repeatedly against the keyboard of his computer. He barely seemed to notice the Guardians until Aster pulled him up by his shoulder.

“What’s that thing your sister was drawing? What aren’t you telling us?”

“I don’t know!” Jamie wailed. “I didn’t know she was drawing weird monsters or anything until she was gone! And I’ve been trying to get in touch with Dipper, but he’s not answering his phone, and I didn’t _notice_ what’s wrong!”

“Hey hey hey.” Jack crouched next to Jamie, giving him a firm hug. “No one made watching her 24-7 your job. And even if you’d seen it, you might not have had any reason to think anything was up. Anyway, we’ve got plenty of ways to look into what’s wrong. Bunny, do you think you can see if Katherine’s got any insight?”

“Y - yeah. I’m on it.” Aster bolted out the window, landing heavily on the dying grass outside. He took a moment to catch his breath, and to dismiss the clenching in his chest. It was so hard to remind himself why pursuing his attraction to Jack was a bad idea, especially when Jack was letting his Guardian’s instincts show.

Aster was lost and broken, a relic of a dead age and representative of a dead race. His soul was a landscape of broken dreams and shattered hopes. That for a short time he’d believed that something could break that cycle made it worse when he’d been reminded how long he’d hoped for something that was impossible - had always been impossible. He didn’t see how the hope of a relationship with Jack was anything different.

No matter how much he sometimes thought differently.

He shook off his thoughts before hurrying for the library. All of the other Guardians had little shortcuts they could give the others to reach their domains, but Katherine allowed them only the same approach the children had.

Once inside, Aster took a deep breath to center himself, and then began to wander the stacks. To approach Katherine, you needed the proper frame of mind. You had to focus on the unanswered questions in your life - the things adults wouldn’t share, the lies they told, or the things they couldn’t answer.

It had gotten harder for Aster to reach Katherine the traditional way in recent years, as he’d stopped questioning why the world was the way it was, why such misery existed. He instead dwelled on his own role in that misery, the uncertainty of how he could be a Guardian of Hope when he had only eons of his hopes being dashed.

How he could represent new beginnings when he was mired in the past.

Aster stumbled as the linoleum of the Burgess Library gave way to rough wood. He rolled rather than fall, but came up short when he hit a soft barrier.

“Oh dear. You would be wise not to go tumbling about the library.” Something grabbed Aster by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet. She reminded him of Yubaba, a hunched form in a black cloak and with a head taking up one-third her height. Her eyes were wide and yellowed, separated by a bulbous nose, and her face was lined heavily. She held the cloak tight, and her wide, floppy hood all but covered the dark, stringy hair poking out from beneath it.

“Do you have a library card?”

“Ah - no.” Aster took a glance around, finding he was surrounded with rough-hewn bookcases, many half-empty but well-tended. The room was lit by flickering lanterns, and the facts were sufficient to establish he was not in Katherine’s library. “In fact, I appear to have gone walkabout.”

“Oh my. You’ve met with a terrible fate, if you did not mean to find my library. If you are not clever, and quick, and determined, you are likely to die.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I mean you no harm, traveler. Happily, it is unlikely harm will come to you inside my library. But you are in The Unknown, now, and there are a thousand ways to die here.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bunny hadn’t returned in an hour, and that prompted Jack to go after him.

“Here, take this.” He shoved a snow globe into Jamie’s hand. “Give me two hours and then find North. I’d hate to think something weird is going down with Katherine, too.”

And then Jack was gone, leaving Jamie alone. Most of the cops had cleared out; one was still downstairs talking to Jamie’s mom, and that left him in relative silence.

Jamie glanced at his computer again. Dipper wasn’t answering his Skype, and Jamie hadn’t gotten any answers from his cell phone. He was wavering between anger and fear, the worry that somehow everyone that mattered to him was simply vanishing.

Jamie picked up his ‘emergencies-only’ phone and called Dipper’s home.

“Hey, Pines residence!”

“Mabel? Is Dipper there?”

“Jamie? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” Jamie slid down to the ground next to his bed. “Is Dipper there?”

“He’s...out, Jamie.”

“Is that what he told you to say? Is he j - just trying to get rid of me?” Jamie was aware he was crying, that his hiccoughing sobs were clearly audible to Mabel, but he was beyond caring. His sister was missing, Bunny after him, and he couldn’t even reach his best friend.

“Hey, hey. Jamie, gimmie a second, please. Jamie?” Jamie shook his head, forgetting Mabel couldn’t see him.

“Jamie, Dipper’s not avoiding you, I promise. Just a lot of...stuff came up.”

“My sister’s missing,” Jamie blurted. “The police are doing everything they can, but I needed-” He broke off, unable to form the words.

“Okay. Okay. Look. A friend of Dipper’s from Gravity Falls lost her parents, and she...doesn’t have a lot of people to help out. I’ll call the Mystery Shack, but I can’t promise Dipper will get the message.”

“Oh. I…”

“Jeez, don’t worry about it. Everything’s stressful and terrible right now. But don’t give up; I’m sure you’ll find her. Why don’t you tell me anything useful so if Dipper gets the message he can do some research for you?”

“O - okay.” And Jamie tried to describe the pictures he’d seen in Sophie’s room, the lamp-eyed creatures whose body was made of screaming faces and whose horns were like a branching canopy. He wasn’t certain if any part of his description was coherent, but when it was over, Mabel made a little shushing noise.

“I know I can’t stop you from worrying, but don’t think you’ve lost her for good. With you and so many other people working to find her, you can’t fail.”

Jamie wanted to protest, pointing out that plenty of people went missing every day, and even though their families searched just as hard, many of them stayed missing. But Mabel sounded so certain about her optimism that he couldn’t bring her down.

“Alright. I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Know I’m sending you all the good vibes I can manage!”

With Dipper a closed door in terms of assistance, Jamie decided to try a hand in it himself. He wasn’t...great with computers, but he could usually get search engines running. None of his searches, however, could turn up anything like the monster dominating Sophie’s art.

But then he found himself thinking about missing persons, and a few quick searches turned up slightly more information. There had been a spike in missing people - children especially - in the past month. And it was hard to identify - he couldn’t easily tell if any of the cases were from the same cause as Sophie - but there was a high prevalence of stories mentioning people disappearing during walks in the woods, or playing near forests.

And maybe that was where a lot of people went missing, but it reminded Jamie, suddenly, of his trip to Katherine’s library earlier that year. She guided the lost to her library to show them stories that would lead them out of their confusion.

What happened to the people she couldn’t reach?

“Bunny has officially dropped off the face of the Earth, which I’d say was unlike him, but hey, who knows what’s been going on in his head lately?”

Jack dropped in through the window, scowling. He hopped closer to Jamie, peering at the computer screen.

“And what’s this? Missing persons cases? Looking for something?”

“I don’t know. I was looking at them and thought, ‘what happens to the lost people Katherine can’t reach?’ What happens to people who are _lost_ \- really and completely?”

Jack dropped onto the floor next to Jamie, a frown tugging at his lips. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he thought, a habit he shared with Bunny.

“It’s hard to say. Plenty of creatures try to get people lost - yuki-onna, will o’wisps, that sort of thing. But you could be right. We’ve all got our little knacks, and our own personal villains - things we don’t talk about much, because they’re _our_ problems. She doesn’t fight much, but Katherine’s bound to have them. And if she built a sanctuary for the lost-” Jack stood up and cracked his back before reaching down for Jamie to take his hand. “Well, let’s see what she’s got to say.”

Jamie declined the hand, instead bolting downstairs, making sure his mother knew he was going to the library, and finding Jack outside, balancing on his staff.

“Good thinking, there, keeping your mother from worrying. Now, come on.”

Katherine’s library had been built to be deliberately comforting, but there was something wrong with it, now. The lights were a little too dim, leaving long shadows fluttering along the floor. There were faces in the wood of the shelves, and the books rustled as if in a chill wind.

“Katherine?” Jack called. 

There was a muffled thump and a cry, “Just a minute!”

Jack exhaled sharply. “Well, that’s good.”

“What?”

“The place looks like she’d abandoned it...good to see she’s still here.”

Katherine appeared a moment later, smiling genuinely when she saw the two of them. “What dragged you back here, Jack?”

“What happens when people get lost? And you don’t find them?”

Katherine’s expression hardened, her grey eyes flashing like steel as her smile flattened. “Oh. One of _those_ conversations. Come along. I’ll serve tea.”

Jamie had never gotten over Katherine’s office since the first time he’d seen it, just after the first Pitch debacle. She refused to answer how the books that made up her furniture stayed together, or how to actually retrieve those books. But things were a little too stressful to stare at her desk, even as it took several minutes for her to finish tea.

Finally, she sat at her desk and gave Jack and Jamie each an assessing glance. “When I first became a Guardian, I found that certain types of people were moved - affected - by my stories the most. Those who were confused - lost - and needed some form of guidance. And sometimes, such people went missing. Not the sort of thing where their bodies turned up years later, or they ended up living in Toledo, but - missing.

“So I made this place a sanctuary against the place that takes the lost and confused. Eventually...I met people who found their way back home on their own. When people lose their grip on their direction, their - their _center_ \- they slip into a place between waking and dreaming, between life and death. Some of them fall prey to the dangers of - of the Unknown, and a lucky few come out of it stronger, more centered.”

“Oh, _Bunny_ ,” Jack whispered. His voice sounded tired, fond, but sad, and broken, and Jamie was reminded, suddenly, of how Jack had seemed frailer since Bunny had learned about the other last Pooka, dead without ever knowing Bunny was looking for him. It was clear to everyone with half a brain that Bunny hadn’t been doing well, either, and Jamie wasn’t sure if they’d had a fight, or if Bunny was just...sad.

“ _Oh_.” He could see how someone could think of Bunny as lost, the way he was now...he couldn’t quite see how the same might have happened to Sophie, but it was possible young children got lost easier than others. Especially if… “Bunny hasn’t come to see Sophie in months. I’ve been busy with - what happens to a kid like her when everyone she cares about doesn’t seem to have time for her anymore?”

“The Unknown,” Katherine muttered. “Well, I think it’s time I shared with you one of my little knacks.” She tugged open a drawer on her desk, frowned, and then pulled open another. “Ah!” She set a book down on the desk, a journal of sorts. “We’ve all got our little ways of getting around, and this is mine.”

“I thought you just haunted libraries,” Jack said.

“No. I can read myself - and others - into my books, Jack. It’s why I don’t keep fiction around - much too dangerous. This is some of the most concrete information I’ve collected about the Unknown.” She settled back, staring seriously at Jack and Jamie, cool eyes assessing. “I need you to understand something. I can send you out, but I can’t call you back. You have to get out of the Unknown on your own. And I know frighteningly little about it, except that it is dangerous, and that people die there. We’ve no guarantee Sophie or Bunny are there, and...I don’t know how long it’ll take to find them.”

“I can’t…” Jamie paused, feeling a pang in his chest. “I can’t leave Sophie, but...is there something you can do, maybe keep my mother from worrying?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Katherine replied. “Now, I need you to close your eyes, lean back, and just listen to my voice. _For a time, I wandered in the woods, fearful that the chill of the place would consume me, before I came to a mill, one inhabited by a man fearful of everything that dwelled in the woods, but into which he ventured frequently, for the sake of the edelwood that grew in the forest, a most curious tree that yielded oil that burned with the brightness of stars…_

And slowly her voice grew quieter, more muffled, until it faded altogether. Jamie opened his eyes a minute later, to the most forbidding forest he’d ever seen. The trees were dark, crowding close to one another and casting overlapping shadows. A battered building stood nearby, next to a shattered mill half-fallen into a babbling brook. Black turtles crawled along the shore of the brook, and the air moved with an unearthly chill.

“Welcome to the Unknown,” Jack muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

The strange librarian creeped the _fuck_ out of Aster. She had introduced herself as Auntie Whispers, and introduced her young apprentice, a slender, dark-haired slip of a sheila, as Lorna. But her eyes had an unnatural focus, she sucked turtles out of their shells, and everything she said seemed to have a sinister edge.

She refused to call the forest surrounding her library anything but ‘The Unknown’. “This is where the lost come, and linger, die, or thrive. My Lorna was drawn here by her wickedness, and for a time, killed many unsuspecting people. Now that she is no longer wicked, we are both happier.”

“Are you lost, too?”

Auntie Whispers shook her head. “When the Unknown was created, four souls were called into being with it. One contained all the avarice and deceit known to mankind. Another, a ghost that could hear on the wind any name that has been spoken in the world, sought to dwell inside innocent souls and make them wicked. Another sought to use others only for her own amusement. And one...wished to shelter those who came to this place. Three of them are dead or banished from this place, now, so it’s just me.” Her smile was wide, but her expression didn’t actually change, and there was a _definite_ possibility that she was one of the first three.

Well, how about pointing me to the way out? I’ve got someone I’ve gotta find.”

Auntie Whispers shook her head. “Oh, no. Death is the only certain escape from the Unknown, so unless you wish that path, I cannot help you.”

“There’s gotta be a way out of here.”

“Oh, there is. Or there isn’t. Whether there is a way out depends on you. You are here because you are lost. When you cease to be lost, you will no longer be in the Unknown.”

Aster rested a paw on his forehead. “I don’t have time to be lost; I’m trying to find someone.”

“Is she lost?”

“Maybe - I don’t know. Has anyone else come through here?”

“No, but there are many dangerous places in the Unknown. She could be lost in Pottsfield, lingering near death. She could be set upon by whowolves or be stuck in frog jail.”

Aster’s ears twitched as a thought occurred to him. “She was drawing something before she vanished. A sort of…” He waved a paw vaguely. “Horned King, made up of...screaming faces. Right creepy, that.”

“That is a poor sign,” Auntie Whispers murmured. “You speak of the Beast - but it was vanquished, years ago!”

“The Beast?”

“The Beast was the cultivator of the edelwood tree, consuming its oil to sustain his existence. Once, all that dwelled in the Unknown served the Beast, one way or another, in producing edelwood. Adelaide the Wool Witch bound spirits for him, the wicked spirit that possessed Lorna consumed those who would threaten him, and by acting as her keeper, I served its will. But the light of the Beast’s soul has been extinguished, Adelaide blown apart by the wind, and the wicked ghost banished to the Cave of Lost Hope.”

“Then why was Sophie drawing pictures of the Beast?”

Auntie Whispers took a deep breath before folding her arms in front of her, wide eyes narrowing marginally. “The Beast has a long reach. And the risks of the Unknown have not lessened because it is gone.”

“Then where could she be?”

“She may be in Pottsfield. They are kind, there, and would do their best for her.”

Lorna, who had spent most of the conversation demurely staring at her feet, jerked upward, eyes wide and watery. “But Auntie Whispers-”

“If she is not in Pottsfield, I would only pray she never set foot in the Unknown. It is not kind to children, especially those alone in the world.”

Aster wanted to protest, but there was no arguing that Sophie had been wanting for attention before she disappeared. Jamie was awash in the distractions of adolescence, and Aster had been too busy wallowing in the loss of one hope he’d have otherwise hung onto until Doomsday. And that Aster had allowed his sorrow to allow him to neglect someone he cared for was a clear sign that holding onto those bonds was a selfish, destructive instinct on Aster’s part.

Perhaps it was best that his search for Sophie had left him lost in the Unknown - he wasn’t doing anyone much good sulking around the Warren. He was certain even if he couldn’t get back, they’d find a way to pull off Easter, especially given Jack’s talent for painting. And maybe...even if he couldn’t find Sophie here, he could keep an eye out for other lost kids. 

“Any idea where I could find Pottsfield, then?”

“Oh, certainly. It has been safer to travel the Unknown, recently, so we have a few good maps. Lorna, please fetch our guest a map.”

“Of course, Auntie Whispers.” The slip of a girl curtseyed and glided into the stacks. Auntie Whispers watched after her with a fond smile before glancing back at Aster.

“She is a sweet, obedient child, now that she is no longer wicked. I would do anything to protect her...you understand, certainly?”

Aster nodded. The same sort of passion was what made someone a Guardian, and the reason he was here in the first place. Lorna returned a minute later with a folded parchment, handing it to Auntie Whispers.

She unfolded the paper to reveal a map, which turned out to be so vague that it might as well have had ‘Here Be Dragons’ scrawled across the whole surface.

“Now, Pottsfield is a few days’ walk toward the sunrise, usually. If you find a path, it’s probably the right way to go. This time of year, they’re always happy to invite people to their harvest festival, so they’ll make it easy for you to get there. I do wish you luck. Even without the Beast, the Unknown is a dangerous place for the unwary. It would be a shame if you were to die.”

“...Thanks.” Aster was relieved to get out of that woman’s house, even though the outdoors wasn’t much better. He’d never been fond of forests, and this one seemed to be pulling out all the stops to make itself as creepy as possible. Even though the sun was up, the trees seemed always to be positioned so as to keep Aster in shadow. Whatever trace of animals Aster could catch were furtive and scared. And the world was strangely stagnant - while not dead, it smelled stale, and the litter of the forest didn’t seem to be creating new life.

The few days of travel were quiet, mostly. Not even the birds called in the trees, and he wondered, if the Beast was gone, what kept the forest so quiet.

When he caught the scent of death on the breeze, Aster had a terrible suspicion, one confirmed when he came upon a laconic village set amongst pumpkin patches. A potter’s field, something that put darker meaning on Auntie Whispers’ advice. Better dead than lost in the Unknown...

Resolving not to eat anything, just in case, Aster followed the winding path through the fields of pumpkin toward a large central barn. As he drew closer, the sound of music from within the barn suggested it was the best place to find some answers.

Aster pushed the door open a crack, giving him a glimpse of a folk dance - men and women shaped like stacked pumpkins with reed-like limbs. A great pumpkin stood at the center of it all, presiding over the dance with a wide, painted grin. The dance was accompanied with a rhythmic clicking sound; given the folk that would inhabit a potter’s field, it was likely the sound of bones striking one another.

When Aster moved to close the door to give him a moment to plan, the central pumpkin swiveled toward him.

“Oh, what is that? An intruder?”

Pumpkins halted in their dance and hurried to pull the door open, exposing Aster to their unchanging expressions. Aster felt his ears fall back as they drew closer.

“G’day! Name’s Aster - I’m the Easter Bunny.”

The pumpkins paused, murmuring amongst themselves. The central one let out a startled squawk, like a startled cat. “Oh, my. While we welcome any and all visitors, I do hope you’re not here to stay.”

“Nah, never quite got the hang of staying dead. I’m actually...looking for someone. An ankle-biter - a little girl.” He glanced among the assembled creatures, thankfully finding none of them small enough to be Sophie.

The central pumpkin took a deep breath. “I think you might be pleased to know our...harvest does not include such a person.” Aster exhaled sharply in relief. “But the people of Pottsfield are the dead of the Unknown - lost and forgotten. There is...another place lost souls might come to rest in this place. Beyond Pottsfield is a wide green field filled with afternoon sunlight. It’s peaceful there, and many a lost soul have have found solace there.”

From other sources, like, for example, Auntie Whispers, Aster might have been skeptical. But he had a good feeling about his chances; the master of a potter’s field had to be a charitable sort, and not likely to offer poor advice. And even it turned out to be a furphy, checking out the green fields was a tempting suggestion.

“Thanks, mate.”

“Enoch,” the pumpkin said.

“Enoch, then. Have a good time at your B & S.”

“We always have a good time, Aster; in fact, people all over the world are dying to join in.”

Walking away from Pottsfield in the way Enoch had indicated, Aster mused on the dark joke. He supposed if you were guardian of the forgotten dead, you needed a sense of humor. As Aster continued, the autumn coloring gave way to brighter summer colors, the grasses fading from brown to green, and the air taking on a syrupy warmth.

Aster paused for a moment, closing his eyes and raising his head to take in the sun. He couldn’t recall if he’d been outside at all last summer - certainly never in sunlight like this. Maybe he’d just been suffering from a lack of sunlight. Real sunlight, anyway.

“Cadet? You’ve...grown.”

Aster’s eyes snapped open to meet grey eyes set among a scarred grey face, a creature still two feet or so taller than him.

“W - what?”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s ‘what, _sir_ ’, Cadet.”

“C - commander?”

\---

Lorna’s sweeping paused; Auntie Whispers had long ago learned to be alert to the sound of Lorna stopping her work. It was good that such awareness was no longer necessary to prevent wickedness, but the habit had yet to die.

“Auntie Whispers? Why did you lie to that rabbit?”

Auntie Whispers sighed. In some ways, raising a young lady had been easier when she was possessed by a carnivorous demon. She hadn’t had to answer awkward questions.

“When the Beast came to me, I did what I had to do to keep you safe, Lorna. The wicked ghost was only banished, and I lost the magic bell when those boys came through. And without that, there is not joy enough in the Unknown to destroy it.”

Lorna’s eyes widened, tears prickling at the edges. “You gave him to the Beast?”

“No, no! He has the same chance as anyone else. If he is clever, and lucky...he may yet survive.”

\---

“Sir? Enoch? I hesitate to ask, but…”

Enoch waved away the hesitant dead man. “You wonder why I encouraged that young fellow to go to the lands beyond Pottsfield.”

“Y - yeah.”

“Many reasons. One, of course, is that I’m a cat.” Enoch stretched and crawled out of the mouth of his pumpkin. “We’re tricky. But he’s a lost soul. If he could find a measure of peace in the fields, it’s my duty to see him there. And...the Beast paid me a visit a few days ago. Said he’d burn this place to the ground if I didn’t give him exactly what he wants.”

“Sir! You gave in to that-”

Enoch hissed, silencing the dead man. “I don’t give in, but I did agree to give him _everything_ he wanted.” He yawned and grinned, revealing all of his teeth to the dead man. “Having E. Aster Bunnymund in his clutches isn’t going to seem such a good idea when Jack Frost hears about it.”


	5. Chapter 5

The mill was almost entirely ruined, and basically useless for anything, including information gathering. Jack spent a long time walking around the building’s interior before sighing, and leading Jamie back outside. He stuck his staff into the ground and turned to Jamie.

“Okay, Jamie, we are well and truly lost. And that means I’m going to have to try something. It might give us some idea where to find Sophie, but I need you to be quiet while I’m concentrating. It...might take a while.”

“How long?”

“Don’t know. Don’t know how big this place is.” Jack hopped onto the top of his staff and took a deep breath. The air began to drop in temperature - slowly at first, but then rapidly, until it was freezing. Frost began to crawl up Jack’s staff, and his breath came in clouds. Leaves began to spiral around the staff, rising until they were hovering at eye level. And then the cyclone exploded outward, sending little puffs of air spinning away from Jack. He remained perched on top of the staff, breathing evenly, as the air calmed.

And then...time passed. One minute, two minutes. Ten minutes. Half an hour. An hour.

After only a few minutes, Jamie began wandering around their immediate surroundings. He wasn’t dumb enough to wander out of sight, but he wanted to see a little more of the forest. The trees were strange - it took a while to recognize that they didn’t have moss or anything growing on them. It reminded Jamie of Katherine’s words - that the Unknown was between waking and dreaming. If that was the case, strange things like trees that didn’t look quite real would be the standard.

The air was cool, but smelled weird, stale, like an old person’s house, or like an unused set. The light was similar, giving everything an ominous, shadowy appearance.

Jamie amused himself for a few minutes watching one of the weird black turtles that were crawling near the ruins of the house. He glanced up at Jack, and, finding him still concentrating, took a few more circuits of the area. Jamie wasn’t particularly interested in looking around more, certain he’d picked out everything of interest, but if he didn’t keep moving, he was certain he’d start crying. Which, yes, Dipper had assured him wouldn’t shred his masculinity, but it probably wasn’t productive.

He knew he was responsible for Sophie going missing, and, as a result, Bunny. He glanced at Jack, still focusing. If he followed that trail far enough back, it was his fault Bunny had been avoiding Sophie, that Jack was wan and sad. He’d broken Bunny, made him lost. Made him lose his _center_ , which Jack had told Jamie was the core that allowed a Guardian to keep going. And Jack, who had spent the entire last winter hanging out with Bunny, was slipping just as far.

Pitch would love the irony of Jamie, who’d saved the Guardians, destroying them.

Jack drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Got it...I think.”

Jamie’s stomach twisted as his heart leapt. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jack gave Jamie a broad grin. “Every Guardian’s got their own little tricks, and the wind can carry people’s voices to me. The only thing is…”

“What?”

Jack scowled, shaking his head. “She’s not frightened. She’s giggling and happy, and if she was taken by the Beast, I wouldn’t expect that.”

“But she’s not in danger. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah...but it doesn’t make sense.”

Jamie wasn’t entirely certain what Jack meant, but he decided that could wait until after they found Sophie.

“Well, what does it matter? You found her!”

Jack’s lips quirked up into a hesitant smile. “If it isn’t a trap.” But he was still smiling, probably excited at the prospect of a fight.

“Is it?”

“Eh, 50-50, I’d say. Let’s go.” He hopped down from his staff, wrenched it from the ground with the crackling of ice, and reached out a hand to Jamie.

Jamie took a deep breath and took the hand, and a moment later, they were airborne. He’d ridden on the wind rarely, usually experiencing Jack Frost’s command over the air through his navigation of sleds, wagons, and other sundry at the death-defying pace that made winter fun. Actually flying, though, was a different animal altogether.

When he was responsible for kids on sleds, Jack directed the wind with a steady hand. For all the apparently reckless tricks, Jack maintained iron control over the passage of every breath of air. But when Jack flew, he gave a direction, and let the wind do as it would.

And the wind didn’t go from place to place in a straight line. It wove around trees and rivers, ducking and rising with joyful abandon. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and nauseating all at once. Riding the wind for any extended period of time was a reminder that Jack wasn’t quite like other people. Other people had fun and went back to the rest of their life. Adrenaline governed Jack’s existence. It was the same principle, Jamie supposed, that had made Bunny fall apart when his hope was ripped away from him.

The wind slowed and set them, gently, on the ground in front of a sturdy wooden house. The trees around the house had at least one birdhouse apiece, chipped and worn from use, but empty. The house was two stories, but compact. Jack held out a hand to keep Jamie from approaching too quickly.

“Halloo the house!” Jack called.

The front door swung open; a struggle between several figures ensued, until a short blonde figure rocketed out of the house, laughing as it ran at Jamie.

“Jamie! You found me!” Sophie latched onto Jamie’s waist, holding on hard enough that it felt a little uncomfortable, but he didn’t complain, grabbing onto Sophie as tight as he could.

“Of course I did. Did you think I’d leave you out here on your own?”

Sophie pulled back a little, her mouth marred by a little frown, wide blue eyes blinking. “I thought...you haven’t wanted to play in forever.”

“Oh, jeez, Sophie.” Jamie pulled her back, resting his hands on her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just...Mom’ll tell you that kids get weird at my age. And a lot of stuff’s been going on. I never, ever stopped loving you. I just got...distracted.”

“Is that what happened to Bunny? He’s a lot older than you.”

Jamie couldn’t help laughing at that, even though the question sent an uncomfortable twist in his stomach. “Yeah, he’s not going through that sort of thing. But he’s...lonely. I told you he was the last giant bunny. I think it’s been upsetting him.”

Sophie huffed into Jamie’s waist. “That’s dumb. He’s got Jack.”

Jamie heard a surprised huff of breath from Jack, but couldn’t really focus on that right now. “It’s not the same, Sophie. But hey, how’d you end up out here?”

“We found her sleeping in the woods.” There was a girl about Jamie’s age standing a few feet away; the struggle at the door had likely been her attempt to keep Sophie from bolting. She was dressed simply in cotton clothes, with red hair bound up atop her head. She gave Jamie a gentle smile. “I’ve been lost out there; I thought she could use a place to stay until someone came for her. Or...well, my parents don’t mind one more mouth to feed.” She shrugged. “You’d be the famous Jamie, I guess.”

“Famous? Nah. But Sophie _is_ my sister.”

Something about the girl’s expression shifted; she was still smiling, but her eyes seemed distant or sad. “I’m glad you found her, then.”

“So am I.” Jamie turned to the girl, still holding Sophie close. “But I didn’t get your name.”

“Beatrice.”

“She eats dirt!” a male voice called out from the house.

“Shut _up_ , Jason!” Beatrice snapped. She turned back to Jamie and offered him a weak smile. “Sorry. Old joke. Do you want to come inside?”

“If you don’t mind.” Jamie paused, glancing at Jack. “Oh! Sorry, I forgot. Beatrice, this is Jack.”

“Jack Frost, actually,” Jack said, hopping forward to offer Beatrice a hand.

“Oh?” Beatrice gave him a sharp, narrow-eyed look. “What does that mean when you’re at home?”

“He’s the spirit of winter, and one of the Guardians of children everywhere!”

“Hm. Not everywhere, I think,” Beatrice said, her mouth twisting briefly, “or you would have dealt with the Beast much earlier.”

Jamie opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut before arguing. Jack and Bunny hadn’t heard of the Unknown, so they probably hadn’t done much to keep the kids there safe. But that brought another thought. “Does that mean you’ve never had a visit from Santa Claus?”

“I’ve never met him, and I’ve run into a lot of weird things out here.” She sounded a little haughty, but a little sad, too. Jamie supposed that hearing about Santa and the Easter Bunny, and never getting a chance to experience their work, would make you a little sad.

“Well, he’s real.” And that brought Bunny back to mind. “And so is the Easter Bunny. Which is part of the reason we’re here. I don’t suppose you found a giant rabbit out in the woods along with Sophie?”

“The schoolhouse is more used to giant animals than around here.” Beatrice sighed. “But he could be anywhere, honestly. It depends entirely on how lost he is.”

“Where would he be, if the answer were, ‘as lost as it’s possible to be’?” Jack asked. He sounded tired, broken. Sophie seemed to sense it, too, gripping Jamie’s leg.

“Hm,” Beatrice said. “It’s...hard to say. Once, the Beast led the lost to the edelwood grove. He’s not around anymore, thank goodness. But the Unknown still leads the lost to their doom.” She tapped at her chin thoughtfully. “The Beast’s gone, Adelaide’s dead, and that evil cannibal spirit got banished…” She frowned, a quick grimace. “I don’t suppose...he’s particularly at peace with himself.”

Jack let out a bitter, broken laugh. “No, not since Easter, anyway.”

“Then the Cave of Lost Hope,” Beatrice said decisively. “People are drawn there when-”

“No, that’s where he’ll be,” Jack said. “I don’t suppose you know where to find it?”

“Not exactly, but Father’s got a bit of directions to everywhere.” Beatrice turned, but paused before running off. “You really should come in for a bit.”

Jamie glanced at Jack, who nodded. The spirit, though, had a set to his jaw, a quiet determination Jamie hadn’t seen much, except when duty called. Jamie guided Sophie back to the house, where she skipped into the kitchen, informing Jamie of all the wonderful things Beatrice’s mother could make, including a long string of babbling he thought was an attempt to pronounce ‘snickerdoodle’.

There, Jamie and Jack took tea, Sophie drank a glass of milk, and they waited for one of Beatrice’s brothers to fetch their father. When the man returned, a stout gentleman with a wide mustache, he smiled at Jamie and Jack.

“Rupert said we’d found little Sophie’s brother. Good to see our little bluebird’s been taking care of you.”

“Oh my god, _Father_!”

The man chuckled and sat at the table. “Now, Rupert said you needed a little help.”

“We need to find the Cave of Lost Hope,” Jack said.

“You’re not taking the children along with you, are you?”

Jack paused, glanced at Jamie and Sophie, biting at his lip. He met Jamie’s gaze before setting his jaw and nodding. “Of course not. Beatrice said you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on Sophie.”

“And Jamie?”

“He’s fifteen. Old enough to make up his own mind.”

Beatrice’s father nodded. “Well, that’ll do. Come on, I’ll show you how to get there. Mind, it’s a bit of an inexact science, navigating the Unknown, but I’ve generally found that places will find you, if you’re meant to find them.”


	6. Chapter 6

Commander Statice wasn’t the half of it. Most of the crew of the _Zorrah_ , save Feverfew, was there. They’d carved warrens out of the rolling hills, and were farming a little, to keep everyone fed.

“Of course we know we’re dead,” Commander Statice replied when Aster inquired. “But old habits die hard, and it’s a way to keep the paws occupied so we don’t go mad. Cattail started a choir, and the rest of us have kept ourselves busy.” She glanced in the distance, opposite from where Aster had come. “Ranunculus did some scouting; he found some other settlements a day or two down the way.”

Aster’s chest fluttered uncertainly. To have found Pooka - any Pooka - dwelling in the Unknown, was a miracle. To imagine more, and the possibility that others might yet be living in this strange in-between world…

“Wait. You haven’t run into Hellebore, have you? Little bloke, the one we picked up from the Illuminov fortress?”

Statice’s eyes flashed for a moment, but then she shook her head. “No. Only lost souls find their way here.”

But there was still hope, that somewhere in the scattered communities of Pooka, he might find Todea and Salvinia. That there might be others, people he remembered from his childhood, or those lost to the endless war against the Fearlings.

“You want to sit a spell, Aster? You look...like you’ve been through a lot.”

Aster didn’t have it in him to argue, especially because the insight was true. He let Statice hustle him off to a little cabin, and drifted off to sleep.

A female Pooka with a black-spotted white coat was watching Aster when he woke. Red eyes were fixed on him, and she grinned with pointed teeth when she saw he was awake.

“Only the lost end up here,” she said.

“Everyone seems to harp on that, yeah.” Aster rubbed at his head as he tried to sit up. “How’d you get in here?”

She hissed out through her teeth, giving high-pitched whistle. “The Illuminov could make the world unreal to them, slipping into realms of pure thought.”

“You’re not from House Illuminov.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “The Constellations embody a power that permeates the universe. With eons of study, you could learn the simplest of the Constellations’ tricks. Living so long near the Light of Creation, you might have become the start of a Constellation yourself.” She sat up straighter, ears twitching.

“What?”

“Remember, Aster. Only the lost end up here.” Then she was gone. 

An unfamiliar pale brown Pooka poked his head into the room. “Everything all right?”

“She’s apples,” Aster said distractedly.

And despite the fact he was faced with Pooka he’d once known, people whose deaths he’d mourned for ages, Aster mulled on the strange Pooka all day. It took hours before he could make any sense of it, and when he did, it was obvious. Red eyes, speaking in cryptic warnings - she _had_ to be U-Hrairoo. He wondered how he’d managed to keep running into U-Hrairoo who wanted to help him. More than that, he wondered what she’d meant.

Of course the lost came to the Unknown; it’s how Aster had ended up there.

But once he took a moment to back off his musings, Aster began to wonder if there was much point to worrying anymore. The dead Pooka seemed content in their new home, a place far from the Fearlings, and free even from the mysterious Beast. He was certain, if he followed Ranunculus’ path, he would find his parents in some distant settlement. And if he kept traveling, kept looking in this idyllic place, he might find others.

Even with that thought, though, Aster couldn’t lay claim to the hope that somewhere beyond this settlement he might find the pale, blue-eyed Pooka he’d sent away from the Fearlings to keep him safe.

Aster spent several days among the crew of the _Zorrah_ before deciding to go on.

“There are many lost Pooka here,” Commander Statice told him, patting him on the shoulder. “If you want to find your parents, or…”

“Hellebore.”

“Yes.” And those eyes flashed again. “It will take a long time. Weeks. Years. There’s no telling how far you’ll have to go. And you can’t give up, because the moment you doubt yourself, you’ll be lost again.”

Aster nodded, because ominous words were par for the course, and also because if Commander Statice thought a few years were enough to erode Aster’s determination, she had no idea what he’d been going through.

A day out of the _Zorrah’s_ settlement, Aster began to feel the first inklings of doubt. Ranunculus had given clear enough directions to the next settlement that Aster should have known he was going in the right direction. Instead, he’d reached a crossroads among the green fields.

“Very symbolic, don’t you think?” Aster had been a warrior too long to be frightened at the sudden voice. His body tensed on its own, though, and he turned his head, cautiously. A...person, hooded and shrouded in shadow despite the daylight, stood behind him. Antlers spread from the top of its head. Something about them was unsettling; it took a moment to realize they spread like branches, and had none of the velvety texture of real antlers.

“Of what?”

The figure shrugged. “Things can just be symbolic without being symbolic _of_ something. Which way are you going?”

“Onward.” Aster gestured toward what he hoped was the direction of the settlement he was looking for.

“You mean backward.”

Aster raised an eyebrow at his traveling companion. “Pardon?”

A bone-white smile appeared quickly beneath the stranger’s lamp-like eyes. “Onward to a fantasy you’ve clung to for a trillion years. It must be hard, keeping that hope alive.”

“You’ve no idea.” A creature luring him to hopelessness could be nothing else but the Beast. Strange, Aster had assumed the Beast would be more vicious. But then again, Aster could be a vicious bastard in a corner, but he’d rather paint. Regardless, every second Aster kept the Beast talking was another second the creature wasn’t trying to murder him.

“Was this what you hoped to find?”

Aster scowled as he started along the path. “I didn’t expect this, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But this was your hope. To find the lost Pooka, alive and happy somewhere, so you could be part of a people again.”

“...That’s good oil, yeah.” Of course the Beast was right. Aster had clung to the hope that at least one Pooka had survived - but it had always been settling for second best, because what he really wanted was impossible.

They walked in silence for a time, the eternal day beginning to dim a bit, before the Beast spoke again.

“ _Is_ this what you want?”

“Of course!”

“It’s good to know you’ve no doubts about those you’re leaving behind.”

“You’re trying to stick words in my mouth.”

“Perhaps. But if you won’t commit, it suggests the Unknown is the place for you. The lost and hopeless end up here.”

“To sort themselves out?”

“Some do. The rest…” That smile flickered across the shaded face again. “Well.”

“And you want me to pick the wrong choice.”

The smile appeared, and widened. “Oh, it’s good not to have to pretend. Yes, I want you to make the wrong choice. I want you lost and broken, so you can become an edelwood tree.”

The Beast continued to grin, and that was because knowing what the Beast was trying to do wouldn’t help in the slightest, if Bunny didn’t have the slightest idea what the wrong choice was. He could see the broad strokes of his choices - to chase the dream of living with other Pooka in the Unknown, or return to the world where that dream was dead.

“I can see you thinking it over. You think the easy choice must be the wrong one, but then wonder if giving up your dreams is what I want you to do. You don’t know how long you can keep up the hope, if you can’t find what you’re looking for. But your heart is so weary of living with loss. So you are trapped within an impossible choice. To struggle to keep alive an impossible dream? Or to accept that the one hope that’s kept you alive for eons is a fantasy?”

An impossible choice, indeed. And Aster knew trying to put off the choice would only wear him out and give the Beast further advantage. Trying to struggle through it, Aster began to suspect that no matter what he did, he’d end up in trouble.

He was well and truly stonkered, which was normally when El-Ahrairah would show his insubstantial tail. The Unknown seemed to follow its own rules, though, because no one appeared to help him out.

Wait.

The Unknown _did_ follow its own rules. It was inhabited by the lost - a creature who knew its purpose probably had a harder time getting here than anyone else.

So Aster was on his own.

He _hated_ dealing with tricksters.

He glanced sidelong at the Beast, who was watching him with anticipation. It would be just like a trickster spirit to offer a choice where every option was the wrong one. Like when Jack asked if he’d rather have a water balloon fight before or after lunch-

Jack.

A flutter of warmth in Aster’s stomach was followed a moment later by a shock through his mind, a spark that send his thoughts racing.

It was a nasty trick, making someone think every choice was a bad one by refusing to let them know all of their options. An even worse one to convince them that the right choice was the absolute worst one. And exactly what Aster would expect from someone who wanted nothing more than for Aster to give up.

“You’re a right mongrel, you know that? Sitting there yabbering about doom and gloom when it’s obvious what the right choice is.”

“Oh?”

“Letting these lost souls get on with their lives, stop being a bludger, and get back to work.”

The Beast howled in laughter. “Yes, go ahead, bury your sorrow in your work. Let’s see what happens when the children taste chocolate poisoned with lost hope.”

“Lost hope? What sort of croc is that?”

“You’re abandoning the hope that kept you alive-”

“I’m the last Pooka. The rest of them are dead or lost. There's not a Pooka who was ever alive that I’ll have the chance to meet again. But killing an old dream...doesn’t close the door for others.” The thought of blue eyes set within frost-pale skin made Aster smile without even really thinking about it. “And I’ve got other dreams, things I’d given up on because I was so focused on what I’d lost.”

The Beast stared at Aster for several moments, before its unnerving grin returned. “What you pick doesn’t really matter, anyway; you’re not getting out of Elysium until I say so. The Unknown is _my_ domain.”

“And here I expected I’d get out of here without having to knock any heads in.” Aster cracked his neck and grinned with all his teeth. “Any last requests?”

“Oh, just give me a moment to get ready.” The Beast reached into its cloak and removed a hooded lantern with a glass cover. It gleamed with a pure white light that made Aster a little sick. The Beast set it down on the grass and took a step away. “And allow me a chance to tell you a few facts you neglected to learn.”

The Beast was suddenly next to Aster, and a fist as hard as wood slammed into his stomach, sending Aster flying. When he landed, the Beast was by his side again, grinning. “First, I draw strength from the souls of the lost, compressed into edelwood oil and set to burn in my lantern. Such power gives me monstrous strength and quickness, enough to be a match for you, Bunny. As long as that light burns, I cannot be harmed.”

Aster rolled onto his stomach, crouching, and then launched himself at the lantern. He was quick, reaching the lantern a moment before the Beast. He grabbed the handle and braced himself to change direction. His second leap was cut short, however, when his arm nearly wrenched out of his socket. Hitting the ground, Aster pulled at the lantern; it didn’t even budge.

And then the Beast was on Aster, throwing him to the side. “Second...the lantern can’t be touched by any spirit or supernatural creature. Your kind can’t just pick it up and blow it out - you’d need to risk a mortal to get at me.

“And third...well, even if you could do that, you _still_ couldn’t get rid of me. My life is hidden away, Aster, so as long as there are those who are lost, my soul may be rekindled to burn again. Like you, I’m one of those pesky spirits that just can’t die. So it seems the best bet is for me to beat you to death until you can’t work up the energy to come back to life.”

He grinned. “Let’s begin.”


	7. Chapter 7

The cave was sunken into the ground, a wide, rocky opening in the earth like a mouth underneath a huge tree bulging with strange growths. It stood in the center of a clearing a hundred yards across, but the trees at the edge were withered and dying despite their distance from the cavern.

Jack held Jamie back at the edge of the clearing while he surveyed the area; after a few minutes, he waved Jamie in.

“I don’t know what this place is; it doesn’t _feel_ like that creepy sort of place where people lose their hope. If anything, it looks like the sort of place a plucky group of kids would find a lost treasure.”

Jamie nodded, but couldn’t quite focus on Jack. Something about the tree was unsettling. A name for the feeling escaped him, but it - or something about the tree - lurked at the edge of his awareness.

“That tree’s weird, right?”

Jack gave it a once-over. “It looks a little like that weird cave from Star Wars. Not the one that’s a monster - the trippy one.”

Jamie nodded, but although he could see the resemblance, he knew that wasn’t what was making him feel weird. “Are we going in there?”

“Yeah, just one thing.” Jack reared back and threw a snowball in Jamie’s face at point-blank range. The rush of joy overwhelmed Jamie, forcing out a laugh. It was a strange sensation, now that Jamie knew to recognize it - like the weird, intrusive thoughts that came to him in the middle of the night. Jamie’s nose wrinkled and he sneezed.

“Dude, warn a guy before you do that!” Jamie was aware his voice sounded much less annoyed than he’d aimed for, but he was pretty sure he’d gotten his point across.

“Sorry.” Jack offered Jamie a crooked smile. “I’m not letting you walk in there without a little buffer.”

Jamie nodded. “So? Let’s go.”

The ground in front of the tree dipped sharply; Jack lifted into the air absentmindedly, leaving Jamie to scramble down on his own. The air grew colder as they descended, but eventually settled just on the far side of chilly, just warm enough that Jamie’s breath didn’t fog in the air.

The cave was rough, from the uneven floor to cracked walls. Jamie could see veins of a faintly luminescent crystal running through the stone, but the light wasn’t enough to see more than a few feet. Jamie tripped on something. He hit the ground, hand scraping against something smooth. He scrabbled at the object.

When he saw what it was, he took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a...human spine down here.”

“Oh.” A breath of cold air told Jamie Jack was by his side. “Hey, that _is_ a spine. Guess that answers our question of what kind of place this is. Now would definitely be a good time to have Bunny around, but - oh, hey! here’s another one!”

“Not. Helping.”

“Come on! There’s nothing we can do for them _now_ , and wandering around being frightened of a horrifying monster that...can bite clean through a man’s rib cage, if that skeleton is anything to do with it, isn’t going to help _us_.”

Jamie’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Really?” Jack took a slow circuit around Jamie, studying him carefully. “I would have thought-” He shook his head abruptly, scowling.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jack said, waving a hand. “But we’re just both going to have to keep our chins up and all that. Wait, no, that’s British. Um...keep our noses clean?”

Jamie couldn’t hold back a snort. “Dude, just stop. I’ll keep my spirits up, or whatever, as long as you stop talking like an old person.”

“I _am_ three hundred years old,” Jack retorted, sticking out his tongue. “I can’t keep up on all your lingo.”

“Alright, just drop it.” Jamie stepped away and tried to ignore the presence of human remains surrounding him. “Are we just planning to wander around until we run into Bunny?”

“Broadly.”

“Can’t you do that whole ‘listening to his voice’ thing?”

“It’s not going to be that...easy.” Jack paused. “Oh my...I’m an idiot.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re just worried about Bunny.”

“Yes, but I’m an _idiot_! Bunny’s not just lost - he’s mourning the loss of his entire species. This place wouldn’t drag him somewhere just to wallow - it’d be to - to find some remnant of them. You’re right, the Wind’ll help me find him. Come on-”

“Actually, hold on a moment.” Jamie had seen a glint of something further down, and the strange feeling he’d had when he first saw the tree returned. “I think I see something.” As he hurried forward, the decline steepened until Jamie was all but scrambling down a sheer fall. Now that he was closer, he could see a glowing crystal chest sitting nestled among a mess of tree roots. Inside, he could see something twitching-

Jamie tripped, but caught himself before he hit the ground. “I’m fine!” he shouted.

“Jamie, are you okay down there?”

“I’m _fine_!” Jamie repeated.

“I think you should come down here and take a look at this,” Jamie said.

Jamie stared. He was pretty certain he hadn’t told Jack to follow him down into the cave, but there wasn’t anyone else there to say anything...was there?

Jamie looked behind him, and experienced a horrifying sense of vertigo. It wasn’t like looking in a mirror, because the image was reversed. But he was looking at _himself_. And then the face of Jamie widened impossibly to reveal a wide mouth full of teeth.

“What are you doing? What are you?”

The creature wearing Jamie’s body turned without a response; Jamie wasn’t even sure it could hear him. “Jack?” the creature asked. “Are you coming?”

“Just a second, Jamie.”

“Jack, get out of there!” Jamie shouted, but to no avail. 

Jack floated down the incline, looking around him curiously, staff hanging idly at his side. The fake-Jamie tensed, likely having returned his face to something approaching normal.

“What’s going on down - ooh! Fancy chest! What’s...in there?” Jack squinted at the translucent box. “Is that a rabbit?”

“Hare, actually,” fake-Jamie growled, and tugged Jack’s staff away from him.

“Hey!”

The creature was on Jack, mouth tearing at him with sharp fangs before Jack could react. Jack struggled, ineffectively, to keep the creature’s fangs from doing much damage; watching, it took Jamie a few moments to realize that Jack wasn’t fighting his hardest. He moved almost gently, not striking hard enough to bruise, not moving sharply enough to break bones, and only trying to pry Jamie’s body away from his, rather than tossing him aside like Jack might fighting any other creature.

“Jamie! If you’re alive around here, I’d really like to know if this is a doppelganger or something, because _this is a little difficult_!”

“I _know_!” Jamie snapped. He could feel - not tears - but some sort of tingling at the corners of his eyes. He’d stood in front of Pitch Black, unarmed and unafraid, but this was terrifying - standing helpless while something wearing Jamie’s face tried to kill Jack. He didn’t even know if he could take his body back, or if he would remain trapped forever, unable to affect anything in the real world while his body committed atrocities.

“Give me back my staff you stupid! Dream! Monster!”

_Dreams_.

Katherine had called the Unknown a place between waking and dreaming. And if that was the case, even if Jamie couldn’t touch anything, he was still in a place where you could make things you imagine come true.

Being a disembodied spirit probably gave him a bonus in that regard, as he could pass it off as poltergeist activity.

Jamie looked around hurriedly, but was unable to find anything substantial in the room...except for the crystal chest.

“Okay, come on,” he growled to the universe as a whole, as he began to concentrate. He couldn’t breathe, so he couldn’t use even breaths to focus himself. And he couldn’t drown out the sounds of Jack’s desperate fight. “Come on, come on, come on,” Jamie moaned. “Just _focus_.” It wasn’t happening - it wasn’t working.

And then he thought of Sophie. Who would never go home if the monster killed Jack. Who would never see Bunny again if they couldn’t save him. And Dipper, who didn’t need to lose another friend. And Mabel, who believed he could do it.

The chest wrenched itself from the ground and flew at the struggling pair. Miraculously, it hit Jamie’s head. He winced at the strength of the blow, but it did cause Jamie’s body to fall limp. Jack glanced around warily, but dropped and gently lowered Jamie’s body to the ground.

“Jamie? Are you there?”

“He’s out there somewhere, but that concussion’s going to hold him in place for some time.” A hissing voice echoed through the chamber. “I have to give him credit, he’s a clever little thing, figuring out you can do things here in the Unknown you can only dream of.” A strange translucence manifested over Jamie’s unconscious body. “Of course, only the witch Auntie Whispers possessed the bell with the power to command me. So I think I’ll take your body, Jack Frost.”

“Can’t,” Jack growled. “Not without my permission. Or my name.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” the translucence, growing slightly more substantial, purred. “The Unknown is full of wonders, the dreams of a madman given flesh...so to speak. Its hunters are creatures with power unimaginable. The edelwood tree, that consumes the souls of the lost. The witch who binds souls in wool to make them her puppets. The ghost who can hear on the wind the name of anyone whose name has ever been spoken in the world.”

And with that, the ghost dove at Jack. Jamie let out a silent scream, trying to will it not to happen, to keep Jack safe.

The spirit passed through Jack with no resistance, vanishing from sight. Gasping, Jack fell to one knee, and stayed there for a few moments. Jamie drifted closer, eyeing the crystal chest. He was pretty sure he could take out Jack if he needed to, and he would later marvel that the thought had ever crossed his mind.

Jack lifted his head, panting. His eyes were wide, lips parted, and he was shaking.

“What _happened_?” A monstrous, translucent shape with a wide, toothy mouth, appeared behind Jack, eyes swollen and yellow in fury.

Jack’s mouth twitched up into a smile. He raised a hand, ice crystallizing along the insubstantial surface of the ghost's exterior, and his grin widened into something unnerving. “Guess you bit off more than you can chew.” He snapped his fingers, and the ice shattered into diamond dust, slicing through the spirit's incorporeal form. It screamed, an eerie wail that reverberated against the walls as silver fluid flowed freely from its wounds.

"What did you _do_?"

"Magic's good for getting rid of spirits. Didn't expect you to bleed, though."

The ghost howled. "Magic? This is no mere magic!" It drifted closer to the ground, moving sluggishly and its form growing more transparent. "It has the taste of purity...of joy unfettered…"

"Well, that sort of hits it on the nose." Jack drifted closer, grinning. "Jack Frost, at your service. Guardian of fun."

"You've _killed_ me!"

Jack shrugged. "Not a great loss, from what I've heard."

"It will do you no good. You seek the lost, and that will bring you to the Beast. And joy alone cannot destroy _him_. He was shaped by the Old Ones - one of the Star Children, and will not die easily."

Jack shrugged. "That's a risk we'll have to take."

The ghost wailed again, a voice dwindling to nothing. Jack stayed where he was, until the last echoes had died away, and then hurried to Jamie’s side.

“Okay, I hope you’re in there, Jamie, or get back really quickly, because you can’t last longer than a day or two outside your body. Oh, _man_ , you can’t tell anyone about this, because I’d get in so much trouble, but I don’t have _time_.”

Jack knelt down and pressed his lips against Jamie’s forehead, and everything went a little fuzzy. He blinked once or twice, finding he was looking up at Jack, who gave him a wide grin.

“Awesome! It works!”

“What was that?”

Jack patted Jamie’s shoulder. “Magic as old as time.”

“You _kissed_ me.”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, your mother does that all the time. Kisses bruises, cuts. Do you think she does that because it doesn’t work? I mean, not all the time - love’s a tricky sort of magic.”

“ _Love_?”

Jack ducked his head, cheeks flushing. “Yeah, well. Bad time to find something like that out. I mean, it’s not in a weird way - you’re _fifteen_.”

Jamie couldn’t help the grin. “Aww, I love you too. But we’ve got more important things to worry about.” He scrambled to his feet, pausing when the world swung around him. “In a minute.” When the world stabilized, he stumbled to the chest. “Did you see what’s in here?”

“Yeah, a rabbit.”

“So get ready to run. You’ve got a lot of practice chasing down rabbits, right?”

Jack’s entire face went almost purple. “I - I mean, I’m not - I...yeah, sure.” He tapped his staff against the ground and floated a few inches up on a waft of snowy air. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No,” Jamie replied.

But he had an idea…

The chest was latched, but not locked, although Jamie’s experiment with telekinesis had dented the lid. He struggled for a moment, and then the lid popped free.

A hare launched out of the box, running for the entrance of the cave. Jack swooped down at it, taking a few quick turns in mid-air before he dove and grabbed the hare around the middle. “Ha! Got you!”

The hare exploded in Jack’s grasp, fur creating a cloud that sent Jack sneezing. A duck soared away from the choking spirit, and Jamie, who had no time to wonder about it, but _certain_ he’d heard this story before, chased after it. The thing was swift, and maneuverable, but Jamie had several years of target practice - and dodge-snowball - with Jack Frost. And concussion or not, Jamie was _not_ going to let anyone down.

The thing was flying serpentine, likely to avoid pursuers, but Jamie had experience with that, given the winter everyone had used that tactic to avoid snowballs. So he angled his run, aiming for a small slope. The runup gave him just enough height that when he jumped, the duck was just swerving around for the return arc of its serpentine flight. Jamie grabbed the duck around the middle, and it exploded in a cloud of feathers.

And, following the duck’s trajectory, an egg flew along the arc, hitting the far wall and cracking. Jamie approached the broken egg cautiously, but nothing erupted from it, and when he picked it up, the egg had no yolk, no white. Just a small, ordinary brass pin.

Oh, Jamie _had_ heard this story before. He pocketed the pin as Jack swooped to his side.

“Hey, you alright? What was that?”

“Something to lure people down here for the ghost to eat,” Jamie replied. “I think we’ve wasted enough time, though. You think you can find Bunny?”

Jack’s expression shifted, his eyes barely flickering closed before they snapped back open, blue eyes gleaming. Air began swirling around him, spontaneous ice crystals forming in the dancing wind. And Jamie suddenly understood how Jack’s power worked, why he couldn’t just find every lost child. He listened for a voice he knew, sorting it among the billions of voices carried on the wind. And a part of Jack knew Bunny’s voice so well that it took only a moment to recognize it among six billion others.

“He’s with the Beast,” Jack growled.

“Is he okay?”

“If he isn’t, there’ll be hell to pay. Grab on, Jamie.”


	8. Chapter 8

The Beast drew back, blood dripping from its...hands. It had discarded its cloak to reveal its form, of a twisted tree covered in knots shaped like wailing faces. Branches twisted together to form hands and legs and whip-thin nails that sliced through flesh. Aster didn’t know how many cuts he was bleeding from. Nothing felt fatal, not yet; he suspected the Beast was toying with him. Of course, it knew Aster could recover from anything it could do, so _killing_ Aster wasn’t its goal.

Reminding Aster that he was at its mercy, and would be for the rest of eternity, or until Aster decided to give up, _was_ its goal. It could take weeks, years, _eons_ , but the Beast was a persistent foe. Hopelessness could chase a person through their entire life, and as long as Aster was trapped in Elysium, without a single hope of rescue…

A breath of cool air brushed across Aster’s cheek, and he struggled against the urge to cry. Maybe if he hadn’t buried himself in the misery of his people’s deaths, of the sense that he wasn’t worth keeping anything he could find, Jack would care enough to find him. Instead, he was going to die a thousand deaths at the hands of the Beast.

The air grew colder than merely ‘cool’, and a snowflake drifted from the air onto Aster’s nose, causing it to wrinkle.

Hope lifted in Aster’s chest. It was impossible, and terrible, if Jackie was lost in the Unknown with Aster, but still-

“Winter is coming, Pooka. Cold and death are coming to the world, and soon will to you.”

And Aster grinned, letting his teeth show. The Beast didn’t know enough for that expression to worry him, the more fool him. “Winter’s not all about cold and death. You ever have a proper snowball fight?”

Aster had been trying to wind the Beast up, so when a snowball hit the wooden beast in the back, it shocked him nearly as much as it did the Beast. Aster paused, waiting for the laughter, but when it came, it wasn’t from the Beast infected with Jack’s magic.

It was Jack. But the sound wasn’t good-natured. It was mocking, cruel. Like Pitch. “Oh, look at the big, bad Beast. Picking on little Bunny. I never liked a bully, Beast.” Ice began creeping along the ground, dodging around Aster as it circled the Beast. Aster couldn’t see Jack anywhere, though. He wondered if he was hallucinating. It was a nice hallucination.

“I don’t do anything the world hasn’t already done to someone. It’s a mercy, really.”

“Ah, but here’s the thing. You might do that to a lot of people and think it’s alright. But you’re trying to do it to _my Bunny_ , and that’s _NOT OKAY_!” The air rose to a monstrous gale, knives of wind whipping past Aster, and then Jack Frost descended from the heavens. A whirlwind suspended him as he drifted downward; Aster noted, absently, that Jamie was with Jack, drifting with similar gentleness despite the winds ripping the grass from its roots. But around Jack, freezing air spun ice crystals in glittering tracks, sketching a three-dimensional snowflake around him.

“Hey, Beast,” Jack growled. “I took care of your little ghost. Do you think you’re going to do much better?”

“Oh, Jack,” the Beast purred, “do your worst.”

Spines of ice sprouted from the earth, impaling the Beast from three angles. The Beast laughed and wrenched itself sideways, shattering the ice and freeing itself to lunge at Jack. Jack bobbed up out of the Beast’s reach, swiping his staff down to send tendrils of ice encircling the Beast.

“That didn’t work the first time,” the Beast crooned. “Why should it now?”

The tendrils thickened in an instant, encasing the Beast in a block of ice.

“I’ve got more than one trick in my book!” Jack snapped.

Roots twisted and grew at a fantastic rate, cracking through the ice and freeing the Beast. Thick, wooden tentacles erupted from the earth, snaring Jack’s leg. They yanked him back and slammed him against the ground once or twice before starting to constrict. The Beast drew close, face twisted into something like a smile.

"Oh, Jack Frost, you've made a nice entrance. And a very nice speech, too. But you lost this battle before it even began. I’m the Beast, the master of this land, and everything in it is set to serve me. Even this battle will serve as an instrument of my will. Because when I crush you, and take with it the last remnants of Aster's hope, it will destroy him more thoroughly than I ever could have managed alone."

Jack's eyes widened, just a hair, but there was something like a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "I suppose things could go that way. But here's another idea. What if I thought to hang around up above for a while, to get a feel for the lay of the land before dropping into the middle of things? What if I noticed you've got this little lamp sitting off to the side, and wonder what's up with it? And _what if I'm the distraction_?"

“What?” The Beast swung its head around toward the lamp, which Jamie had picked up. “No, no, boy, you don’t want to do that. Even if you can render me vulnerable, your friends have no chance of stopping me. A thousand heroes have snuffed out that light, but it has never done any good. You see, boy, fighting me is a hopeless endeavor, one doomed to failure.”

“Let’s see.” And Jamie opened the lamp and blew out the light.

The Beast’s roar shook the landscape. “You foolish creature! I will rend you all limb from limb! And there is _nothing_ you can do to stop me!” The wooden appendages lashed out at Aster, and tightened around Jack. “Even with sword and axe, with the flames and ice, you cannot kill me.”

"But I think...I know how I can." Jamie tugged something from his pocket, tiny enough to fit between two fingers. "I found this inside of an egg that was inside a duck, inside of a hare in a box under a tree, and I thought to myself ' _I've heard this story before_ '."

"Boy, you don't want to do that."

"I _do_. You're a monster. You've killed hundreds-"

"Thousands. But this isn't about me. It's about you. You're still a child, boy, but kill me, and your childhood, your _innocence_ dies." Its wide, featureless eyes flickered red as it glanced at Jack and Aster. "A child lost to save _Guardians_."

"I owe them my _life_ , so I think it's a fair trade." Jamie snapped the item in his hand in half with a quiet 'tink'.

“No! No!” The faces on the Beast’s form began to shift upward; those on its head slipped off of the surface of its face, evaporating when they hit the open air. The Beast tried to lumber toward Jamie, but as the faces slid off its legs, leaving them bare, they stiffened, leaving the Beast stuck in place. The roots or branches holding Aster in place slackened and fell away, and he saw Jack tugging his staff out of the grip of brittle foliage. As more and more of the Beast’s lower body became clear of the screaming faces making up its form, more of its body stiffened, until all that was left was the Beast’s one face, the rest of its body as stiff as a normal tree.

"This is not the end," the Beast hissed. "There are other echoes of the discarded dreams of the Golden Age, and they will see you destroyed. And you, boy…" Its mouth twisted into a wooden rictus as it turned to Jamie. "I think you will find life with a murderer's soul weighs heavier than you ever expected."

With these final words, the Beast’s face melted away, leaving only a twisted edelwood tree. The wood began to fade to gray and crumble before their eyes, until there was nothing left of the Beast but dust.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, during which Aster didn't dare move. His heart was still racing, and he wasn't entirely certain that he'd really been saved.

And then Jack, grinning, now without malice, was in front of Aster, one arm wrapped around Jamie's shoulders. "Bunny! You're okay! You… _are_ okay, right? Because if you aren't, I don't know what else we could do to make this guy pay, but I'll take a shot at it."

"I'm - she'll be apples, Jackie." Aster tried a smile, but it'd been so long, the expression felt insincere. Jack, however, kept grinning at him. "You...really helped us out, Jamie. Thanks."

"Anything for you."

But Aster shook his head, unwilling to leave it at that. He stepped closer to Jamie, uncertain if he should offer a hug. "You never-"

"I'm _fine_ ," Jamie repeated. "He was going to kill you, and…" He shivered. "So...are we ready to get out of here?"

Aster glanced at Jack, who wouldn't quite meet his eyes. There'd been something there, he knew it. It might have been broken, but standing here safe with Jack, Aster couldn't believe it was beyond repair. They had eternity to work it out, if they needed it.

"Whenever you are."

And how _exactly_ are we getting out of here?" Jack asked.

"The Beast's gone, Snowflake." Aster took a deep breath, finding the air cleaner, fresher than it had been a few minutes ago. "The Unknown isn't for people who've gone walkabout anymore." He tapped at the ground with a foot. "I can _feel_ the way back to the Burrow."

Jack gave Aster a strange look, something he hadn't seen in awhile, and couldn't decipher right now, still feeling raw and weak. "You're unbelievable, sometimes, Bunny." Aster didn't need to mull on the sensation that fond tone sent through his chest - warm and fluttery and uncertain.

"I'm a creature of myth, Jackie - it comes with the territory."

In the end, retrieving Sophie and finding their way home was as easy as that. The Unknown still lurked at the edge of dreams, but it had drifted into Sandy's realm, a place of strange logic and stranger people. Sophie had been delighted to see Aster, hugging him as tightly as she could manage when she saw him. He’d shakily apologized, but she’d just given him a solemn expression and patted his side gently.

And once they'd gotten home, Jack didn’t seem to know _what_ to do, which was understandable. Aster had hurt Jack deeply when he’d retreated into himself in his grief. And for all that Jack had risked his life to rescue Aster, he clearly didn’t know how to approach the Pooka.

And later, sulking in his kitchen, Aster had to admit it was unfair for him to expect Jack to take up that burden. Aster had caused the rift between them, and if he wanted to eliminate it, he was the one who had to take the first step.

Aster looked up from his table, taking in his kitchen for the first time in months. It was an absolute mess, plates covered with food he didn’t remember preparing since before Easter. Trash was packed into bags he’d never moved to dispose of, and items he’d been holding when he passed through the room were stacked in uneven piles. Forget company - it wasn’t fit for painting eggs in.

Aster sighed and struggled to his feet. Maybe a little cleaning would help him clear his head.

It took three days to make the Burrow presentable, and another two before it looked like he’d put in some effort to make it look nice. At that point, Aster was running up against the deadline for when he absolutely had to start painting, so he’d have to live with it...or let the issue go for another year.

Jack was in Burgess, as he was wont to when not otherwise occupied, skating across his pond in aimless patterns. He seemed to catch sight of Aster a moment before he saw him; Jack stiffened and slid slowly to a stop as Aster circled the edge of the pond.

Jack gave Aster a bland smile. “Hey, Bunny.”

“Hey.” Aster took a deep breath. “You gotta minute?”

“For a friend? Sure?”

Aster winced. He wasn’t certain he deserved the taunt, but he wouldn’t blame Jack for it. “I came to...apologize, Jackie. I was a - a right drongo to you. When I found out about the Pooka that’d been here - on Earth - I went a little…”

“Crazy?” Jack stepped off the ice and drifted closer to Aster. “It’s okay, Bunny.”

“It isn’t! I _fancied_ you, and I just pushed you off because I was _scared_!” With those words out, the whole thing came spilling out. “Everything I ever cared about died, and even that one stupid hope - that just _one_ Pooka survived - turned out to be meaningless! And so I - I...didn’t want anything to hope for, anymore.”

Aster couldn’t read Jack’s expression; it wasn’t a smile or a frown, just something...pensive? He abruptly recalled that Jack had been...well, one of those old-fashioned Christians, and might not have been as stoked at being romanced by a male as he’d seemed before Aster had made his intentions clear. For all Aster knew, Jack had thought Aster’s flirting was just being friendly.

“You - you _like_ me?” Jack’s voice was about as small as Aster felt, sending a jolt of guilt through his chest. No, Jack had _thought_ he’d known what Aster was doing, up until Aster went all hot and cold on him. “I thought...well, when you started ignoring me…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Jackie. It was just me being-”

“A drongo, yeah,” Jack concluded.

“A right wuss.” Aster grit his teeth, and plowed forward. “So I wanted to let you know, and to apologize. And...well, if you wanted, I’d be stoked if you came round this arvo. I’d make...some food, and if you liked, you could help out with the eggs. Er.” His cheeks heated as Jack gave him a long, assessing look. He tried to tamp down on his hope, knowing that Jack didn’t owe him anything - not forgiveness, much less a second chance.

And then Jack gave Aster a slow, lazy, _toothy_ grin. “Aww, is this the Bunny version of dinner and a movie?”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Aster snapped back. “I just wanted-”

“Sure.” Jack hopped into the air and glided close, too close, so that his breath ruffled across Aster’s ear when he spoke. “But I don’t put out on the first date.” And then he was spiraling away, laughing like a maniac. “See you soon, Bunny!”

Aster stood there for a while until his heart stopped fluttering with the nervous, uncertain joy of finding his hopes validated, if not fully realized.

But he smiled the whole rest of the morning, knowing, not merely hoping, that he had something to look forward to.


	9. Chapter 9

Bill Cipher had all but promised he wouldn’t respond to Gideon’s summons, so he’d contented himself with Therapeutic Crafts, watching the boys work out, and plotting revenge.

As was his wont, Bill reappeared when Gideon least expected him, making the nighttime darkness of the prison go grey and silent before popping into view, a vibrant contrast to the black around him.

“Hey, Starry-Eye! Miss me?”

Gideon moved slowly, careful not to appear too eager. He sat up and gave the dream demon a careful once-over. As usual, Bill had no real expression, but Gideon thought he could see signs of stress - something almost like lines around his single eye.

“Like a tapeworm, William. You made it quite clear you didn’t need me the last time we spoke.”

“ _Then_ , I didn’t need you _then_!” Bill waved his hands in front of him, almost frantically. Gideon filed that away; it was good knowing how badly someone needed your help. “But things are different now. You see, up until now, I thought I needed to go it alone - manipulating hapless rubes into advancing my interests. But that’s not working out the way I’d hoped...among other little annoyances. So I’m here to offer you a partnership.”

“A - what?”

“Partnership! Strictly platonic, by the way, I don’t need people wondering if I’ve got a thing for teenage boys.”

“This is some sort of scam.” The history of Bill Cipher was littered with the corpses of people who’d thought they could match, or control, the dream demon.

“Of course it is! But what does that have to mean you won’t get something out of it? Because I don’t need an unwitting pawn, Starry-Eye. I need someone to bounce ideas off of, a second brain working on my problems. All I need is for you to say yes.”

“To what? My mother didn’t raise a simpleton, Bill.”

Bill rolled his eye. “You’re so suspicious, Starry-Eye. I need you to agree to help me figure out how to get rid of my enemies, seize the power I deserve, etcetera. So what do you say?”

Gideon knew he’d been stupid when he first made a deal with Bill Cipher, that even if you thought you’d been careful, he could still screw you over.

“And what do I get?”

“Oh!” Bill’s eye widened as he drifted closer. “I forgot! In exchange for my help, kid, you’ll get _infinite knowledge_! See, you’re not much help to me if you’ve got a limited little mortal brain. So, how about it?”

Gideon took a deep breath. It was impossible to see how he couldn’t gain from the deal, and he couldn’t see how Bill would manage to screw him over with those terms.

“Deal.”

“Excellent!” Bill raised his arms; behind him, the annulus used to summon the dream demon appeared, rotating slowly as it expanded until it was large enough to fit a small man, or a child. “Now, in you go.” Bill reached out one hand, and Gideon began lifting off his bed and toward the annulus. He tried to grab at the frame of the cot, but Bill’s telekinesis was too powerful, forcing Gideon to let go before it ripped his arms off.

“What the Sam Hill, Cipher?”

“I said I was going to give you infinite knowledge, Starry-Eye. And there’s no better source than the Gate of Truth.”

Gideon tried to struggle, but Bill drew him inexorably toward the Gate. “Cipher, you swine! I’ll make you regret this!”

“Why? This is exactly what I agreed to give you. The Gate strips away all illusions, and lets you experience all knowledge in the universe in a single moment. Well...forces, really. To be honest, I’m pretty certain you won’t enjoy the experience at all. But such are the sacrifices we make for power.”

“ _We_? _I’m_ the one making the sacrifice!”

“I’m actually giving up quite a lot; working with you is going to put a major crimp in my ‘troubled loner’ schtick. And, of course, I won’t get to see your face when it happens. That sort of pain is the best joke in the universe.”


End file.
